


Chomp

by Bluetalq



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Oral Fixation, Scavengers shenanigans, despite everything Krok does love his copter, dick biting jokes, invading personal space, nsfw ending, teeth mods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 12:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12109110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluetalq/pseuds/Bluetalq
Summary: In which Krok has crocodile teeth, and Spinister finds out.





	Chomp

Spinister was very easily distracted. **  
**

So easily that Krok would say about a third of his daily scoldings and “shut it, Misfire”s were given out when the others couldn’t resist the urge to give the big guy scrap every time he’d been caught wandering away towards whatever glimmer or flutter caught his optic.

But in Spinister’s defense, “easily distracted” was a very poor and misleading choice of words. The copter’s bad habit was less “easily distracted,” because he could _definitely_ focus on what he wanted to, it’s just that his focus was never in the right place. Once Spinister found anything that caught his interest, he’d become so intrigued, so drawn in, that is was hard to get him to focus on anything else.

And only now did it cross Krok’s mind that maybe… _just maybe_ …he should have let the others tease away. It would have been repetitive and annoying to hear, but maybe the light bullying would’ve encouraged Spinister to be a little less…well….

Maybe if Krok had acted differently, he wouldn’t have Spinister’s pinning him down, invading his personal space with his servos poking and prodding around in his mouth right now…let’s just say that.

Maybe he should have just kept his mouth hidden.

No, not even that. That wasn’t fair. All Krok wanted was a kiss, which, even for him, couldn’t have been asking for too much. No,  he could’ve stopped this before it began if he had simply not given in to the wide-eyed look of wonder (damn near adorable, even on the face of a mech who picked fights with objects and win with a usually brutal hostility) he’d received the moment he flashed a smile.

And when the copter had moved his servos to hover right in front of his face in a silent request for permission, permission somewhat is given when Krok widened his grin to better show off his unusual set of pearly whites.

Actually, thinking back on it, the monoformer could think of a lot of ways in which he could’ve prevented this from happening. Did his ability to say no just disappear all of a sudden, or…. _God_ , or maybe Crankcase was right and he just has it bad for Spin…

“They’re all different sizes…” Spinister stated, optics narrowing in curiosity as his digits tapped the tips of his dentae one by one, as if he were…was he counting them??

“Lots of ‘em…all just random….”

Naming observations off, maybe he’d be better off writing them down. All he could do with one two three…six digits in his mouth was hum in agreement. Everything else, especially pleas to cease and desist, came out as nothing more than unintelligible garbage.

“They’re shaped all weir-”

Krok’s entire helm jerked, nearly crying out with optics wide as one of Spinister’s hands jolted.

“ _Sharp_ ….they’re shaped all _sharp_ …” He hissed, finally freeing his hands out from Krok’s mouth.

A sigh of relief came before an unappreciative glare as Krok rubbed his jaw, sore from being pried open for that long. His glossa caught a taste of something tart…energon? Did he cut himself on one of his dentae?

Watching the copter pout above him, looking at his own hand attentively…all signs point to yes.

Good. That’ll teach him hopefully.

Nope. There he goes. He’s reaching out again.

“No,” Krok said sternly, hastily, just in time. Much to his relief, Spinister stopped to listen.

“No more shoving your hands in my mouth.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Your dentae-”

“ _No._ ”

Silence. Another pout. Krok held his ground this time.

“Pretty neat set of chompers there.”

A sigh. “Mhm.” Krok hummed, still irked.

“It’s neat how they close all like…y’know.” Spinister gestured in front of him, clamping his servos together with digits intertwined. “Are they reptilian?”

“Rapti-? What??” Krok shook his helm, another classic attempt to shake away the nonsense. “Listen, yes, they’re “super neat” and whatever, but I don’t appreciate you cramming things down my intake like that.”

The way Spinister’s brow waggled up and down was not appreciated in the slightest.

“Okay, rephrase: I don’t appreciate you shoving your _hands_ down my intake like that.”

His brow waggled faster.

“Get off.”

Spinister let out a whine as Krok pushed himself out from under him and stormed off the berth.

“Wait-wait!”

Krok turned around, expecting an apology…well… _hoping_.

“Can you, by any chance, bite through and crush thick metal?”

Hopes crushed.

A roll of the optics, but then a flashy grin.

“ _Pop your panel and let’s find out._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
